This I Promise
by Msauthoress
Summary: Post-DMTNT. Shortly after his return, Will is plagued by nightmares from his servitude aboard the Flying Dutchman. His wife is determined to ease those troubles away. Willabeth.


**Author's Note:**

 **Willabeth has got to be my most beloved pairing of all, and I am really excited to share this one-shot with you! It has probably been at least a few years since I last wrote the two. Feedback is always welcomed! I love to know what my readers think and if there is anything I need to improve.**

 **Edit: Because someone asked me to remove the review from Messenger777, I wanted to add a quick note and say that because they are a registered account with the website, I can't manually remove the review. All I can do is mark is as spam and fill a description about it. So if you want to see the review gone, the best thing to do is mark it as spam and hope the staff members will remove it. Thank you!**

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A flash of lightning lit up the sky, briefly illuminating the room with a bright light. A loud crack of thunder soon followed, the small bay window trembling in response. The couple in their bed were hardly phased by this as they slept soundly. What was once a peaceful slumber for William Turner quickly became a paralyzing nightmare, and he tossed and turned as the dark images flashed before him. This was no nightmare, however, but memories. Memories he had hoped to not remember for some time; it seemed to him that fate would be cruel once more, refusing the bliss he deserved.

He was alone. The sky above him was dark; even the stars only twinkled dimly. As Will looked around him, quickly he realized the familiar surroundings belonging to no other than the _Flying Dutchman_. All was silent; perhaps _too_ silent for his comfort, an eerie reminder of how lonely his servitude truly had been. His eyes then fell to his right, where beyond the railing of the vessel was the endless ocean. A familiar tug jolted in his chest, and he could not stop himself from being started from that feeling. It was a feeling he only received when there were souls to ferry. He did not know why but Will approached the side of the ship, as if something had compelled him to do so. A soon as he peered over the railing, however, he regretted his decision.

A single row boat floated alongside the _Flying Dutchman_. It was only half empty, men and women of different occupations seated inside, patiently waiting to be brought aboard. Blank faces stared ahead, not even the slightest fear or curiosity shadowed their faces or gleamed in their eyes. What Will saw was the most heart-wrenching were not these men and women, but the infants swaddled in their mother's arms. Babies. They were not even a year old, their breath but a bitter taste in the wind. Those poor souls, they had not even been given a chance to live.

Will tightened his grip on the railing. Ferrying the souls of infants had not been rare. There had been plenty of child to come pass through the Land of the Dead, young and small, but nothing grieved Will more than to see a small infant. Always his thoughts went to his beloved, thinking how of a wonderful mother she would be; how this child could have come in her path and not the harsh touch of death. It was these memories that haunted Will the most. And then suddenly – an infant was in his arms, staring up at him with piercing blue eyes. Beautiful but lifeless, their existence forgotten.

Never again would he ferry another child's soul. He _couldn't_. "No," Will whispered. "No, no…"

"Will…" A soft voice echoed but he paid no mind. All he could focus on was the blank stare of the infant. The voice called his name again, urging him to awaken. Everything around him began to fade as he began to regain consciousness. The last thing Will saw was the little bundle in his arms.

"No!" Will jolted up, breathless. Cool air washed over his perpetrating skin, a fresh feeling than what he had felt in his dream. He placed his hand over his chest as to reassure himself his heart was there, and not locked away, breathing a loud sigh of relief when he felt it beating wildly. Will closed his eyes. It had only been a dream. Just a dream.

Small arms wrapped around his torso, followed by Elizabeth's soothing voice. "Shh, darling. It was only a dream."

Almost immediately he relaxed under her touch. Will breathed out a heavy sigh. "It felt so real."

"It is nothing more than a cruel trick from your subconscious. You are here now, you're home."

Home. It had been a week since his return and it still felt surreal. Will tightly gripped her hand rested on his chest, as if he were seeking reassurance from her touch. When he did not say anything, his wife gently pressed, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do not think my dreams are something you would want to hear," Will weakly chuckled.

Elizabeth rested her chin on his shoulder. "I have time," she said. Her words could not be truer – with the curse broken, they had all the time in the world; whether it was a moment or several hours. There was nothing to separate them this time, and that Will took comfort in.

"My dream was not a dream, but more of a reflection of my time on the _Flying Dutchman_ ," Will began. "I was alone and above me was the dark sky, and the ocean all around me. But I was alone; not even my crew was there. It was only myself and…the souls." He took a deep breath. "During my time as Captain, I witnessed many things, Elizabeth. Sorrow, anger, peace. What has never left my memory were the souls of small children requiring my guidance. Some were even infants. I lost count of how many children I ferried to the other side."

"Oh, Will…" Elizabeth was speechless. She did not know what to say. What could she say? The memory would always be with him, as would every single moment of his servitude aboard the ghost ship. There was little comfort she could offer, but perhaps tonight she could ease his troubled heart. "You did your duty, and you did it well. Beyond well, even. Those days are no longer, though. No more will those chains bind you to that terrible fate. You are here with us now. Never again will you have to endure another moment of that curse."

"And yet it feels as if my duty still calls to me," Will sighed.

Lifting her hand to his jaw, Elizabeth tilted his head so that he was looking at her. She smiled lovingly. "You have a new duty now. To be with your family and to carry out the rest of your days with them."

Will's lips twitched. "And to make more babies?" he added teasingly.

"Many more babies," Elizabeth corrected matter-of-factly.

"Oh, my mistake, Mrs. Turner."

" _King_."

This time, Will smiled widely. She never truly gave up the title. "My mistake, King."

Pleased with his answer, Elizabeth smiled, raising her chin. "Let not those pesky nightmares steal you of your peace," she said, reaching up and trailing the tips of her fingers down his cheek. "That is behind us now. We will look forward to the future."

"Do you command that as King?"

"No." Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck. "I command that as your _wife_."

"Surely there is no greater wisdom than the words of her," Will murmured, lowering his head and brushed his lips against hers. "This I promise you - your wish is my command, Mrs. Turner."


End file.
